


Like It Used To Be, But Better

by mystery_notebook



Category: Psychonauts
Genre: Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9552983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystery_notebook/pseuds/mystery_notebook
Summary: Gloria buys the old Hagatha Home, abandoned and disheveled and covered in vines.(i love this ship please send help)





	

Gloria buys the old Hagatha Home, abandoned and disheveled and covered in vines. According to the seller, it was shut down about five years ago; Something about violating codes of practice, taking extreme measures to discipline students. Gloria laughs about it later, but in the moment she just nods and continues looking over the papers, trying to focus on the numbers for now.

 

She’s able to afford it just fine, and has a decent amount leftover for repairs. She thanks a higher power (and a kid named Raz) that she’s still able to access her old theater savings, and all in all the place cleans up nice. It’s just like it used to be, but… better. Healthier. The chorus rooms are repainted, the ballet studio has its mirrors replaced, and the garden that was once full of prickly weeds is tilled and seeded and filled with vegetable plots. Piles and piles of paperwork are filled out and teachers are hired for all sorts of arts. She even puts new curtains up in the grand theater. They’re purple and gold and absolutely gorgeous. Things almost seem perfect.

 

But one quiet Sunday, while cleaning a storage room deep in the west wing, she finds an old leather whip looped twice around itself and hung neatly on a hook. She leaves it where it is. She can’t bring herself to touch it. With her back to the door, for the first time since leaving the lake in that gloomy cab with her three companions, she cries.

 

\--

 

She calls them up, one by one. It’s the first time she’s talked to any of them since that day. Perhaps on some level, she thought that if she was going to move on from her time at Thorney Towers then it meant she had to leave _them_ behind, as well. But, like it or not, she missed them. How long had they shared that island? Months? Years? It all seemed so fast while it was happening, but she could remember bits and pieces. Rainy days spent watching the artistic Edgar Teglee try to paint, or acting out melodramatic period pieces with a (in hindsight, miserable) Fred Bonaparte. She doesn’t recall spending much time with Boyd Cooper, the old security guard, so it surprises her when he recognizes her voice.

 

“Gloria! Gloria Von Gouten! It is SO nice to hear from you! You doing alright? Adjusting to the world outside the asylum okay?”

 

She smiles and jokes about how she never really will, and Boyd agrees.

 

\--

 

They end up visiting all at once, and arrive at once as well: Three cars parked outside, and three nervous boys of varying sizes waiting patiently on Gloria’s front porch. When she opens the door, she throws her arms around Edgar and is swept up in what is, to this date, the best hug she has ever received. Fred cracks a joke and Boyd laughs, and then they all start laughing and it’s hard for them to stop. She ushers everyone in and they all start talking and don’t really stop until they’ve been shown around the entire campus and it’s started getting dark. Gloria excuses herself to her office so she can deliver the evening announcements before dinner begins. She sits back in her chair, looking through her notes, and wonders why she ever thought she could go without seeing them again.

 

\--

They sit together in the dining hall during dinner (lasagna and vegetables from the garden, and it’s genuinely delicious) and Gloria asks them how their lives are progressing. It’s a little hard to hear them over the chatter of her students, but she still listens intently as each of her friends talk about their months following the taxi ride.

 

Edgar’s gone back to life as an artist. On some level, it’s all he knows how to do. At very least, there are no more bulls, and no more mysterious woman in the sky. He sticks to things that remind him of recovery-- flowers, animals, a few self-portraits. He has a day job, of course, and a small apartment in a small part of town.

 

Fred, too, has an apartment, and says that he’s thinking of going back to school in an attempt to renew his counseling license. Besides that, he’s been jogging and writing and trying to forget about the “Napoleon” incident. Everyone knows exactly what he means. Boyd, when asked, quietly says something about being “between jobs” and then starts waxing poetic about the lasagna. Gloria laughs and pours everyone another glass of lemonade.

 

“Well, if you boys ever need a steady paycheck, then you know where to find me. Art teachers, counselors, security guards…. we hire all sorts at the Von Gouten Acting Academy for Girls.”

 

\--

 

It’s surprising how easily everything falls into place, and it’s even more surprising how well they all get along. After that visit, there’s a second and a third and a fourth, and Gloria sighs to herself when she closes the door after wishing them all a good evening. It isn’t for a few weeks (was it before or after she hired Boyd as a guard?) that they end up staying the night.

 

Alcohol plays a part in it, of course. They’re all up drinking in her study, talking about old movies (a shared passion between her and Edgar, while Fred knows just enough to get by) and Boyd lets his head rest on Gloria’s shoulder, closing his eyes just for a moment. Gloria puts an arm around him and Fred, on the other couch, puts his legs up on Edgar’s lap and Edgar doesn’t mind. They all really like each other, and they’re not quite sure how to address it, but for now that’s just fine.

 

“Nobody understands it,” says Edgar, interrupting a moment of silence. “It’s true, you know? The things we went through…. The asylum, the Psychonauts, all of it. Nobody will ever understand.”

 

Fred offers him a smile. “Well, _we_ understand.”

 

“We can try, anyway,” adds Gloria.

 

Boyd softly interjects, his eyes still closed and his voice tired. “....And that’s why we’ve gotta stick together.”

 

\--

 

They end up in Gloria’s canopy bed, all tangled up together, at the suggestion of a drunk-ish Fred (or was it Edgar?) that was maybe meant as a joke, but probably not. They barely fit, but it feels… right. Healthy. Maybe even perfect? Gloria kisses Boyd, and Boyd kisses Edgar, and someone says “I love you guys” and they all laugh because of course they do, too. They fall asleep in one big pile, arms looped around each other, and Gloria has the best night’s rest that she’s had in a long time.

  
She wakes up early the next morning, sandwiched between all three of her best friends, and feels good enough to finally clean out that storage room in the west wing.


End file.
